


habits with hangovers

by 8moons2stars



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Doctors AU, F/F, Fluff, medical conference au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25332931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8moons2stars/pseuds/8moons2stars
Summary: Seungwan and Joohyun only meet in medical conferences, until.
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Son Seungwan | Wendy
Comments: 13
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this medical conference au has been fully outlined for months, and then alyx urged me with some words, and now it's finally being written. thanks, alyx! can i get a piano cover now?
> 
> this will just be full-on fluff because wenrenators have been suffering from angst overload lately. i see you and i hear you and i empathize. ;_;
> 
> pls enjoy!

Seungwan is late.  
  


Seungwan is _really_ late.  
  


She parks her car in a hurry and rushes out of her seat, almost forgetting to remove the keys from the ignition. Luckily, the elevator is already idle at her floor of the basement, and in a few minutes, she’s making her way discreetly inside the hotel’s ball-turned-conference room. This venue is familiar to her, as the surgical society has been using the place to hold their biannual conferences for years.  
  


Her eyes immediately land on the next speaker setting up her presentation, and Seungwan internally corrects herself— she is _perfectly_ on time.  
  


She notes a few familiar faces settled on their seats near the middle, but she prioritizes the generous display of drinks and snacks at the side of the room. After gratefully taking a steaming cup of coffee from the server, Seungwan hunches her shoulders and makes her way to the friends she spotted earlier.  
  


They all greet each other quietly, mindful of how the speaker is about to begin her presentation.  
  


“Perfect timing,” Sooyoung whispers beside her, smirk plastered on her face knowingly. Seungwan rolls her eyes but doesn’t try to deny it. “What happened to you?”  
  


“My alarm didn’t wake me up,” Seungwan explains, “I had back-to-back surgeries yesterday.”  
  


Sooyoung nods, patting her shoulder in sympathy before they both turn their focus on the person beginning to speak.  
  


Seungwan gives herself time to appreciate the doctor on the stage: world-class trauma surgeon Bae Joohyun. A woman three years her senior, duly respected by doctors and patients alike. The credentials she flashes on the screen speak for themselves, but Seungwan’s appreciation for her runs deeper than that.  
  


Somehow, as Joohyun starts off with the introduction to her new study, their eyes meet. Seungwan plays it off, lifting the cup of coffee to her lips and taking a hurried sip, burning her tongue in the process. She had planned for a wink or a smirk to grace her face, but she sends out a grimace instead. And just like that, Joohyun’s eyes trail off towards the sides of the room, casual indifference adorning her face throughout the speech.  
  


It’s difficult to ignore Sooyoung’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter at the bland exchange. “Does she even remember you?” she teases.  
  


“Shut up.” Seungwan clenches her fist and her teeth, her ego more burnt than her tongue. Even though she knows Joohyun remembers her; remembers her enough to say her name like a prayer more times than she can count.  
  


It’s fine.  
  


Her presentation has a lot of typos anyway.

  
  


She says as much once Joohyun sneaks into her hotel room that night, the bitterness coming back in full force when she feels Joohyun’s tongue brush against her still-very-much-burnt one when she’s pinned against the wall.  
  


Joohyun pulls back at her admittedly tactless statement, eyebrows furrowed even if lust still swirls in the brown of her eyes. “…Seriously?”  
  


Seungwan kind of regrets it, immediately missing the feel of the hot mouth on her own. “Y-yeah but it’s fine. It’s—”  
  


“I couldn’t catch a break the past few days, okay?” Joohyun huffs, but thankfully does not pull away from her completely. “I didn’t really get to proofread my presentation even though I scheduled to do it—”  
  


“Sunbae, it’s okay,” Seungwan interrupts the harried speech, her fingers tracing gentle patterns at the sliver of skin between Joohyun’s shirt and jeans. “I’m sorry, I just… I was _sure_ you saw me during your presentation, but you… fuck, I don’t know. That was stupid and tactless of me. Your study was great. _Is_ great. As they usually are.”  
  


Joohyun hums, something noncommittal that prevents Seungwan from gauging if she has already ruined the night for them. Nevertheless, she braces herself for rejection.  
  


“I did see you,” Joohyun admits. “You were late to the whole thing too, but just in time for mine. Which I was…somehow really happy about. But it also made me nervous.” She laughs softly at this. “I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted to impress you.” Joohyun looks up at Seungwan beneath her lashes, and something heavy lodges in her throat.  
  


“And I stupidly insulted you for your _typos._ ” Seungwan sighs in defeat. “I’m really sorry.”  
  


“Did you throw a wink at me?” Joohyun asks, trying not to smile. “It looked like it hurt to do it.”  
  


Seungwan groans. “No, I…I burned my tongue on my coffee. Because I didn’t know if I should wink or not.”  
  


Joohyun laughs loudly at the admission, and Seungwan’s heart turns to putty at the sound. “Cute,” Joohyun murmurs, leaning in to close the distance between them again.

***

Seungwan nods during the appropriate moments, a resident endorsing a complicated case to her as they wait for the elevator that will take them up to the neuro ward. Her mind turns in different directions after each statement, ruling in and out possible causes for the neurologic deficits of the patient. The sorting sinks in like muscle memory, honed by years of practice; of trials and errors.  
  


What isn’t muscle memory is how her brain stops working when she sees Bae Joohyun walking into the lobby with a few colleagues. Colleagues of both Joohyun _and_ Seungwan, given how they are trauma surgeons working in the same hospital as Seungwan, but not Joohyun. So why was Joohyun _here_?  
  


She lifts a hand to signal the resident to stop talking, just so she can process this, right as Joohyun seems to hone in on her presence, turning her head, and their eyes meet from across the lobby. And Seungwan doesn’t know why she doesn’t expect it when Joohyun flashes her a small smile, giving a little wave in greeting. Her own hand, with its intentions now construed in two ways by two different people, remains frozen in midair.  
  


And then the moment is over, with Joohyun turning back to one of the doctors beside her to continue their conversation as they walk towards the other end of the lobby, probably heading to the emergency room.  
  


 _She waved at me,_ plays over and over again in Seungwan’s head, and she flushes in embarrassment at how weird she always gets where Joohyun is concerned. It’s disconcerting, and perhaps a bit unprofessional, but she’s helpless against it. And honestly, that’s what makes it exciting.  
  


Seungwan finally lowers her hand, clearing her throat as she faces the curious resident. “Sorry, can you repeat the results of his blood test?”

***

The thought of Joohyun being nearby floats around Seungwan’s mind throughout the day. It’s not all that distracting, but it’s an afterthought that leaves her smiling a little wider at patients; makes her a little friendlier with the residents and professors.  
  


Except Park Sooyoung, who ribs her about it in her usual Park Sooyoung way. News travels fast around the hospital, like they don’t already have other world-class physicians under their wing.  
  


(“Did sunbae come for you?” Sooyoung tries to ask with a straight face. She erupts into peals of laughter a split-second later, and Seungwan almost begins to feel the onset of a migraine one of her patients had just described to her an hour ago.)  
  


Of course she knows Joohyun did not come for her—at least, not pertaining to this. But the possible reasons intrigue her, and she really wants to ask straight from the source herself, but the lack of a ‘Bae Joohyun’ on her contact list leaves her feeling a bit regretful.  
  


They never had any reason to exchange numbers, seeing as how they’re studying different fields of surgery, so some day-to-day intellectual discourse is not a given. The hospitals they work for surprisingly never overlap, so they only really get to meet during conferences. And bang during said conferences. Without fail.  
  


It’s an arrangement they’re both seemingly comfortable with, and neither of them ever tried to change it. But right now, Seungwan just badly wants to send her a little text of ‘fancy meeting you here’ like a 20th century cheesy sap. Which she is _not_.  
  


She’s just not sure of what to do, with meeting Joohyun in places she’s not used to.  
  


It’s now approaching eight o’clock in the evening, and Seungwan’s stomach protests any more work that will delay food intake. Seungwan rubs her eyes behind her glasses in exhaustion, agreeing with her body. She’s about to start packing up her things in the office when someone knocks on her door. She and her stomach both grumble in protest, but she calls out a “Come in,” anyway.  
  


Joohyun quietly enters her office, and said stomach drops to the floor. She has a doctor coat over her white blouse and signature jeans, and Seungwan internally fawns over how beautiful she looks.  
  


“Hi,” Joohyun greets her with a small smile.  
  


“Hi,” she responds a little breathlessly.  
  


“…Are you busy?”  
  


“Oh. No, I’m not on duty tonight, so I’ll be off soon,” she says, a bit unsure. If Joohyun is staying the night, she may just delay her homeward plans.  
  


“Oh. Okay. That’s um…good.”  
  


“It…is?”  
  


Joohyun fiddles with her coat, her eyes shifting around nervously. “Would you like to um, have dinner…with me?”  
  


Seungwan tries very hard not smile too brightly; it’s a sickness of hers to be overly excited about even the littlest of things, but she (and her growling stomach) thinks this is a big deal. At least for her.  
  


“I’d love to,” she tells Joohyun sincerely, her brain already mentally ruling in or out why Joohyun looks so nervous. It abruptly gives up, concluding with an ‘I don’t really care because she looks really cute.’

***

Dinner is nice.  
  


Seungwan takes Joohyun to one of the good local restaurants near the area when she learns that the latter has been craving tteokbokki all day.  
  


Dinner is friendly more than anything, really. They talk about mundane doctor things and mundane human interest things, and if Seungwan wanted to kiss Joohyun when some tteokbokki sauce landed on the corner of her lips, then that’s a secret she will take to her more-than-friendly grave.  
  


At the end of the night, Seungwan drives them both back to the hospital to get Joohyun’s car, as they both used hers so that they could ride to the restaurant together. She walks Joohyun to her sedan, mentally preparing herself to finally ask for her number.  
  


She’s rehearsing her speech for the third time when she gets pushed up against Joohyun’s car, the older girl pulling her in for a heated kiss that feels like it’s been pent up for hours. Joohyun tastes like cherries and spice, and Seungwan loses her mind, switching their positions so that she can lavish some affection on Joohyun’s neck—her favorite part of her.  
  


“What were you muttering to yourself?” Joohyun breathes out, the question cutting off into a small moan when Seungwan scrapes her teeth on her collarbone.  
  


“I’ll tell you later,” Seungwan promises, a little preoccupied at the moment.  
  


She belatedly realizes Joohyun’s opened the door to the backseat of her car, until she’s already pushed inside the vehicle, Joohyun looming over her with dark, hooded eyes that speak of unmasked desire.  
  


At the end of the night, Seungwan is left with rumpled clothes, a new number on her contact list, and the aftertaste of cherries and spice on her tongue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitions:
> 
> (Surgical) Rounds – when a team of surgeons flit from patient to patient (usually in the morning before surgery or at the end of the day post-surgery) to discuss the case and patient care plans
> 
> MDCT – a type of CT scan
> 
> Bunny method – a (fictional) suturing technique Joohyun invented that makes closing up giant bleeds faster, which is crucial for traumatic accidents

It’s three days later in a neuro breakroom when Seungwan finally ends up talking to Sooyoung about what happened between her and Joohyun. For all of Sooyoung’s ribs and jabs, she never judges. Teases mercilessly, yes, but never judges.  
  


“So, you’re a thing now?”  
  


Seungwan scrunches her eyebrows. “Is this what a thing is? It doesn’t feel like a thing.”  
  


For some reason, Sooyoung looks like she’s trying really hard not to laugh. “Well, do you _want_ it to be a thing?”  
  


She thinks about the question carefully. “I don’t know. I think I’m too busy. And I tend to focus on my work too much.”  
  


Sooyoung finally lets out a laugh, spinning her phone on the table distractedly. “She’s busy too! You’re forgetting you’re not the only world-class-premium-brand-more-than-board-certified-hot-piece-of-ass surgeon in this town.”  
  


Seungwan scoffs, even if her cheeks flush at the supposed compliment. “You make it sound like such a pretentious thing.”  
  


Sooyoung lands her index finger on the middle of her phone, effectively stopping the incessant spinning. The look she gives Seungwan is the most serious she’s seen on her in a while. Like she’s preparing for one of those grueling 24-hour surgeries. “I don’t think you’re pretentious, unnie. If anything, you’re so fucking humble it’s annoying.”  
  


“Um. Thanks?”  
  


“See! Jeez!” Sooyoung rolls her eyes, even if a smile breaks through the wall of seriousness. “Anyway, you’re texting each other now, right?”  
  


“Uh…”  
  


“Unnie!!”  
  


“I don’t know what to say, okay!” Seungwan puts her arms up in defense. “I’m not sure she would really appreciate me talking about my work, since she’s trauma and I’m neuro.”  
  


“Then talk about other things! Your interests outside of neuro.”  
  


“Er, like…research?”  
  


“Oh, god. _Please_. Just…send her some medical memes or something.”

***

Surprisingly, the medical memes suggestion works. Or at least Seungwan thinks it does, with the 😂😂😂 emojis she gets in response. Joohyun also sends her some of her favorite memes, and Seungwan isn’t faking it when she responds with her own laughing emoticons.  
  


Meme-sending transforms into Joohyun suddenly sending her random selcas while she’s in the middle of rounds, making Seungwan almost bump into the door of the next patient’s room they’re stopping by in. Joohyun is usually wearing a mask or her usual button-downs, but Seungwan is very, very gay.  
  


It takes her a few hours to respond, taking a hundred selcas herself and internally screeching about how none of them can hold a candle to Joohyun’s—up until Sooyoung intervenes and snatches her phone away to send them herself, signing it with several kissing emojis.  
  


Seungwan would be angrier if it didn’t cause Joohyun to reply with 😳😳😘, making her ecstatically treat Sooyoung to a large cup of her favorite bland boba.  
  


She’d just sent Joohyun another medical meme, chuckling to herself as she tries to focus back on writing her research paper; she’s hoping that she can finish it in time for the next neurology conference.  
  


She’s hit a slight stump with data interpretation when a knock on her door interrupts her tiny breakdown. Seungwan has been cooped up inside her office all day, and she hopes that Sooyoung has come to rescue her for some reprieve. “Come in!” she calls out.  
  


Seungwan turns in her chair, eyes widening when she sees Bae Joohyun inside her office. Again. She blinks in rapid succession in disbelief. But Joohyun remains by the door, chuckling at her as she gives a little shake to the phone in her hand. “That meme was really funny.”  
  


“Oh. Uh. Yeah. Hi.” Her frontal cortex has hit a snag.  
  


But at least Joohyun is still smiling at her. “Hi.”  
  


Seungwan scrambles to form better sentences, realizing how much easier it was to hide behind her phone whenever she communicated with Joohyun. “Um, is your patient still here?” she asks, since that was the reason why Joohyun had come to the hospital a week ago.  
  


After a slight pause, Joohyun shakes her head. “No.”  
  


“…Oh.”  
  


Seungwan should really ask why, but Joohyun walks forward until she’s standing in front of her, and the words die on her tongue. “What are you doing?” she asks pleasantly.  
  


“Oh.” Seungwan turns to her desktop, as if she needed to check what _exactly_ she had been doing for the past few hours. “I’m writing my research paper.”  
  


Joohyun nods in response, brows lifting as if impressed. “Any significant results?” There’s an intensity in her gaze that Seungwan is _very_ familiar with, but the question throws her off.  
  


“Yeah, we’ve found that screening patients using the MDCT will actually—” Her collar is yanked forward for a kiss, and any thoughts of academia becomes kindling for the heat that is Joohyun’s mouth.  
  


Joohyun sits on her lap, nosing against her neck, and Seungwan almost groans at the pleasant weight astride her thighs. “I’m sorry,” Joohyun murmurs, “I’m sure you started saying something very interesting, but right now, I just—” Now Seungwan cuts her off with a kiss, shaking her head to say that an apology isn’t necessary.  
  


Before things can turn a tad racier, Seungwan remembers something vital. “We should lock the door,” she gets out breathlessly.  
  


“I already did.”  
  


The confidence in Joohyun’s reply sends another spike of heat through her, making her curse. “You’re amazing,” she praises with a sigh, and she’s rewarded with a tinkling laugh that sinks into her heart, like an anchor to its harbor.

***

Seungwan tries not to read too much into Joohyun’s surprise visits. She enjoys them for what they are, welcoming the refreshing bouts of spontaneity amidst her mundane schedule of OR work, research, and occasional noraebang stints.  
  


She and Joohyun continue to text each other constantly, alternating between friendly and downright flirty, but now they also talk about work-related things, with Joohyun asking for her insight on certain ER cases that have possible neurologic issues, and Seungwan giving her updates on how her research work is faring.  
  


Like she told Sooyoung, both of them are busy people, and even though they try to find a perfect time to meet up, the last month has been a flurry of rainchecks and apologies. In the midst of it all, Seungwan prepares herself for the upcoming neurology conference, finalizing her research and making sure her presentation is set for d-day.  
  


On the day of the conference, Seungwan feels as ready as she’ll ever be. She’s had a restful sleep (which is rare) the night before, and had already downed two cups of coffee (which is common) to steel her nerves. After three awe-inspiring research presentations, it’s finally her turn, and she takes deep breaths as she makes her way to the front of the stage, her arm feeling bruised where Sooyoung had just squeezed it ‘for good luck.’  
  


She sets up her laptop with slightly shaky hands, the tech assistant helping her out and giving her a clicker. She tests it out on the screen, and when she finds herself ready, she turns to face the audience of peers and professors—and a smiling Bae Joohyun.  
  


Joohyun is sitting on the seat Seungwan previously occupied, which means she’s front-and-center, sitting next to Sooyoung who is donning the biggest smirk ever. But all Seungwan really sees is Joohyun, sitting in during a neurology conference. For _her_.  
  


It seems like everyone’s surprised as well, and she sees a few of her residents rapid-fire texting on their phones, probably sharing the gossip to all the group chats they’re a part of. But Joohyun doesn’t seem to pay any of the barely-concealed gasps and whispers any mind, her eyes solely focused on Seungwan.  
  


Joohyun puts a fist up, mouths ‘Hwaiting!’ and winks at her in the most adorable way ever. Seungwan wants to run down the stage and kiss her. But she’s a _professional_ , she shouts at herself. And so, she gives Joohyun a shaky smile at best, and begins her presentation.  
  


If she stutters through a bit of it, she thinks she can’t really be faulted for it.

***

They never really talk during the after.  
  


They usually fall asleep in each other’s arms, a pleasant kind of exhaustion seeping deep into their bones and preventing them from leaving so soon. And Seungwan admits having Joohyun cuddling closer and closer to her as night turns into the break of day is something she enjoys: the scrunch of her eyebrows even in deep sleep, body searching for the warmth Seungwan is more than willing to share.  
  


But tonight, they’re both steadfastly awake, Joohyun content with playing with Seungwan’s fingers as she settles herself against Seungwan’s chest.  
  


They both have not talked about it, about Joohyun being here for her. After her presentation, Seungwan’s attention was regrettably taken away by some doctors who came to congratulate her and discuss other potentials for her research. And when she finally got the chance to be with Joohyun, inviting her up to her room for a more private setting, they hadn’t done much talking.  
  


Seungwan doesn’t want to burst the peaceful bubble they’ve enclosed themselves in, but her mind whirs with pent-up questions and possibilities. She’s far too happy about Joohyun being here; more than what the usual dynamics of their relationship entails.  
  


She starts with something far lighter and more familiar, something that doesn’t cause her to be so in tune with the anchor harbored to her chest. “I stuttered too much, didn’t I?” she asks Joohyun, willing her to tease, to exact her revenge against her self-serving comment last time.  
  


Instead, Joohyun hums, the sound reverberating through Seungwan’s skin, the soft kiss she plants on her even more so. “We all make mistakes. Plus, I think you stuttered because of me, so I can’t fault you for that.” Seungwan hears the teasing in her voice, but it doesn’t feel light and familiar anymore; it feels so much more than that, and the words Seungwan seeks to find seem unreachable. Joohyun looks up at her at the lack of response, and Seungwan doesn’t know how much she can see, how much her face reveals. “You did great,” Joohyun says softly. “Why nitpick on things that don’t really matter?”  
  


Seungwan tells herself not to read into this. Like it isn’t far too late. She repeats it, over and over in her head, even as she leans down to give Joohyun the sweetest kiss she can offer. Their bodies tangle together as they kiss without urgency, like they have all the time in the world.  
  


They catch their breaths and laugh, and Seungwan has never felt so content. She’s always chasing something new, something she can learn or something she can improve in, but her heart is content with resting with Joohyun, like this, if Joohyun will have her.  
  


“Remember our first time?” Joohyun suddenly asks, turning to face her, and the immediate wiggling of her eyebrows makes Joohyun slap her arm in retaliation. “I _meant_ our first conference.”  
  


“Right.” Seungwan laughs, earning herself another slap. “But yeah, I do,” she adds, turning serious. “You were amazing. Which isn’t news, but that was the first time I got to actually watch you kill it on stage.” A light blush dusts Joohyun’s cheeks, and Seungwan can’t help but lean in to press her lips against one of them, to feel the heat she’s responsible for.  
  


“I never got to thank you for listening, though,” Joohyun murmurs, “and giving me your input afterwards.”  
  


Seungwan hums, but a soft feeling of guilt makes her chew on her bottom lip. “I…have a confession. Honestly, I kind of knew your bunny method wouldn’t work on smaller brain bleeds, but I just…wanted to talk to you.”  
  


Joohyun looks at her with surprise, and then promptly bursts out laughing. “You’re too smart for your own good, Seungwan-ah. _And_ too smooth.” Seungwan chuckles with her, still mildly embarrassed that she just confessed about how she’s not much different than all the others who crush on Joohyun.  
  


They lay in silence for a while, and Seungwan thinks Joohyun’s fallen asleep when her voice startles her in the dim light of the room. “I have a confession…too. I was offered a job in your hospital, for three days a week.”  
  


“What?? Really??” Seungwan sits up a little bit, causing Joohyun to pull away a little to regard her carefully.  
  


“Yeah, it was why I came over to the hospital last time.”  
  


Seungwan tries to tamp down her giddiness at the prospect of seeing Joohyun more often, afraid of being too transparent. “You mean you didn’t just come by to see me?” she jokes.  
  


Joohyun huffs out a laugh. “Well, it was also because of you. Like a solid 99%. But, yeah.”  
  


Seungwan’s heart stutters against her ribs, and she’s afraid she can’t pretend she’s not pretty much in love any longer. “When do you begin working?”  
  


“…I didn’t accept the offer yet.”  
  


Seungwan blinks at her, a ball of doubt forming in her gut. “Oh. Why?”  
  


Joohyun fiddles with the blanket, eyes shifting. “I wanted to ask you first, about what you think.”  
  


Confusion paints Seungwan’s features. “But…why would my opinion matter?”  
  


Now Joohyun focuses her gaze back on her, the frustration winning out, even if her cheeks have turned pink again. “You topped the board exam, but you can’t figure this out?” she chides softly, smile crooked.  
  


And Seungwan didn’t realize. All this time, she’s been guarding her own heart and scrambling to hide her feelings, when she should have been listening to Joohyun’s all along. To how Joohyun has been making efforts to meet her despite her busy schedule, getting to know her outside of what they’ve both regarded as familiar; comfortable.  
  


To how Joohyun takes the first, tentative steps towards her, waiting in the wings for Seungwan to meet her halfway. Seungwan would have run to her if she knew.  
  


“I’m sorry,” she apologizes now, for not realizing sooner. “I…didn’t want to assume.” She takes Joohyun’s hand in hers, and Joohyun’s answering smile makes her feel like she’s holding the world. “I’d love for you to work there, if that’s okay. And if it’s in line with what you want.”  
  


Joohyun laughs softly, cuddling close and nodding against Seungwan’s chest. “It is. You really are. What I want, I mean.”  
  


Seungwan brushes her lips against Joohyun’s hair, wishing that this will be their new familiar. “Does this mean I get to have dinner with you three times a week?”  
  


“How about more?”  
  


“Yeah?” She grins, and love blooms to fruition in her chest. “I’d love that.”

***

_Sometime in the future…_   
  


They fly to Switzerland three days before the actual conference, and on their very first day, Seungwan is hit with jetlag and Joohyun with an annoying stomachache, but they laugh it off; being stuck in a hotel room with someone you love can be a blessing in disguise, after all.  
  


After recuperating, they plow through a dozen tours of lakes and medieval buildings to make up for lost time. The nerves get to Seungwan the day before her presentation, but Joohyun is there with her, guiding her through the motions until she can practically do it in her sleep.  
  


The hall is intimidating; everyone in the room has credentials longer than their own names, but Joohyun sits front-and-center, just like always. And Seungwan wants to do her, _and_ do her proud. They smile like there is an inside joke shared between the two of them just before Seungwan begins to speak.  
  


And after, when Joohyun claps louder than the entire audience combined, a proud smile gracing her face, Seungwan thinks that she’s even more proud to be able to call her her wife.


End file.
